The Yau Guai
by Kabyl
Summary: A man tries to begin a new life by killing his old namesake.
1. Intro part 1

The day was ending in the Capitol Wasteland. The sun was sinking below the horizon allowing fiery reds and oranges, tainted by irradiated green, to wash over the rubble of the old world and the craters of the new. It was one of the few moments of natural beauty one could see since the bombs fell. Darren often tried to stop whatever he was doing to enjoy this sight, and try to forget the horrors he had witnessed... and committed.

"Sunset," he muttered to himself , "I better hurry."

Darren reluctantly tore his gaze away from the coming twilight, instead focusing on his equipment. He was wearing an old, weather-beaten, blood stained suit of leather armor had saved his life countless times over the last few months, but its own lifespan was nearing its end. He had no idea how much longer it would be before it simply fell off of his body. A holster on his hip held a 10mm pistol and his pockets contained a pair of spiked knuckles. These weapons, like the armor, were familiar to him serving as loyal companions through his recent troubles. Darren's other weapons however were given to him for his current job, one was a knife kept in a sheath hidden in his boot, and the other was a horribly maintained sawed-off shotgun that he had no holster for.

"When did you become suicidal, Darren?" he asked himself as he held the shotgun like it was a dead animal. He was worried that it would explode when he tried to use it, but the pathetic amount of ammo he had been given made it impossible for him to test the weapon. The very sight of this possible bomb was giving Darren a headache. Pinching the bridge of his nose he turned his attention to his pack. The meagre supplies within the pack clattered as he opened it and took note of its contents; it didn't take him long. All that was left was one stimpack, one dose of med-ex, a mutfruit, three clips of 10mm ammo, four shotgun shells, and a bottle of dirty irradiated water.

Darren took a sip of the water and grimaced. In the wasteland any water is better than no water, but that never helped the flavor. Slipping the bottle back into his pack, Darren stood to survey his surroundings.

The skeleton of a house stood nearby, half of it having long since collapsed in a nearby crater and now wallowed in a pool of putrid water. The other half still stood in surprisingly good condition, all things considered. It was a depressing sight, one half serving as a glimpse into the old world and the other as a reminder of what happened to it.

The Capital Wasteland truly lived up to its name. Darren had only been there for around a week, and having come from further west he could tell that this area had been hit especially hard during the war. A few days ago he had, from a safe distance, seen the mountain of rubble that had once been called a city. Darren didn't know much about the history of the area , but from the level of devastation he figured it must have been important at one time.

The sound of gunfire echoing in the distance brought Darren back to attention. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and tried to again focus on his job. From what he had found, he believed he didn't have much further to go. Turning his eyes north, he adjusted the strap for his left shoulder pad and began to walk.


	2. Intro part 2

A variety of words could be used to describe the cave that now stood before Darren: dark, foreboding, and dangerous being only a few. Bleached bones and strips of flesh lay scattered around the entrance, acting as a warning to any who would be foolish enough to get too close. Any sane man would turn and run from this place as fast as his legs would carry him, but unfortunately for Darren the beast resting within was to be his prey. Darren examined the cave entrance, then the bones, then finally his sawed-off shotgun.

"Yeah... this was a good idea," he said with a sarcastic smile. He then looked to the sky for possibly the last time. It had taken him a full day to find this cave and it was now dusk out. His prey, while not entirely nocturnal, was often more active at night. Cursing himself for not being faster, he could only hope that his window of opportunity hadn't slammed shut. If the creature was fully awake or worse, leaving its den, he wouldn't stand a chance.

With a heavy sigh, Darren looked back to the cave. Adjusting his armor one last time, he took a deep breath and entered the gaping maw of what he feared would become his tomb.

The smell hit Darren like a power fist to the face. It overpowered his senses, and if it hadn't been for his life in the wastes it would have made him gag. It was the stink of rotting carcasses. Darren could almost taste the blood in the air, and his eyes were beginning to water from the stench. Darkness was almost all he could see here, it was so thick that he swore he could have cut it with his knife if the damn thing hadn't been so rusty. luminescent cave fungus growing on the cave walls and floor served as the only source of light. Thanks to this fungus, Darren was only just able to navigate the winding tunnel. As much as he hated the idea, he would have to move slow.

Darren moved cautiously, his shotgun held at the ready and his footsteps falling in a silent steady pattern. His vision was blurry, the foul air stung at his eyes and as he brought a hand up to clear the tears he failed to notice the pile of loose rocks in his path. He stumbled as his left leg slid out from under him.

"God damn it..." he growled through gritted teeth as he struggled to maintain his balance. He managed to avoid falling to the hard stone floor, but the stumble had reminded him of another problem. Recently, he had a bad run in with a pack of feral dogs, one of them having managed to get a good hold of his leg. His armor had managed to absorb much of the damage, but its teeth had still punched through and the dog had twisted it pretty bad. Not wanting to use his last stimpack on the injury, he had been trying to nurse his leg back to health naturally before he took this job. It was now throbbing in pain again, a constant reminder of how stupid this idea was.

Darren knew that this was the last place he should be. He needed rest, he needed to maintain his pistol, but he understood that what he needed the most was the trust of his new neighbors. They were suspicious of him, though he couldn't blame them. If a man covered in blood, dust, and looking like he was fresh from a raid had limped his way into his home, he would be worried too. The local sheriff had been willing to give him a chance however, and allowed him to stay in the common house while he tended to his wounds.

The town, as Darren understood it, had been built using parts salvaged from old pre-war planes. While this was an impressive feat on its own, it wasn't what drew his eye when he had first entered. No, what had drawn his eye was the giant nuclear bomb that lay in the center. If it hadn't been for his injuries, he would have left the second he saw the thing. His leg wanted to stay though, giving out before he could reach the gates.

The smell was getting stronger, he was getting closer. Darren checked his shotgun once more, two shells of questionable quality rested within. Clicking the gun closed, he massaged his temple to try and numb his returning headache then continued on.

After spending a few days in the town, Darren had begun to enjoy it there. The walls and sheriff gave a sense of stability and security that he hadn't felt in over a year. His old family had taken strength in skill and by staying mobile, they did what they needed to survive. This place though... this was a settlement, a place one could call home. Darren was tired of running. He was so very tired. The idea of staying was becoming more and more appealing to him, even if it meant he would have to share space with a bomb and that weird cult that worshipped it.

The locals however, weren't so keen on the idea of this stranger hanging around. He looked dangerous, those who carried weapons kept their hands at half draw when he was nearby and those who didn't kept their distance. Rumors had begun to spread that painted him as a raider or slaver scout. These rumors didn't bother Darren, he had expected such talk given his appearance and knew it would die down in time. There was one theory about him however that had caught his attention.

The day before he left on his hunt, Darren's supply of med-x was nearing empty and his leg was aching as a result. Hoping his old friend alcohol could help him through this he limped his way to the saloon for a drink. The place was nothing special, it was dirty, hot, the owner was an asshole, and for some reason they had a radio blaring static all day. Well actually the radio wasn't always screeching, on occasion some old guy would fiddle with it and it would start playing some old pre-war messages. Darren preferred the static.

The establishment may have sucked, but the drink there got you just as drunk as the drink anywhere else. Darren was in the process of ordering a second shot of his old buddy, when he heard his name being murmured in the corner. At first he simply tried to ignore it, he was getting used to people talking behind his back, but four of their words pierced his ear like a needle. They crawled from his ear and down his spine leaving an icy chill in their wake.

"Darren The Yau Guai."

To avoid any unwanted attention, Darren waited until he finished his drink before calmly leaving the saloon. Once outside he hurried to the common house to lay low. Upon entering the town he had given his name and thought nothing of it. He'd never expected the stories to have spread this far east, nor did he think they would recognize him from the description.

"Darren The Yau Guai" was the title he carried before he left his old family over a year ago. The story goes that "The Yau Guai" was a monster of a man who killed any and all who crossed his path, and only obeyed the commands of his master. He was so savage, that he would attack small settlements and kill and maim all the inhabitants just to prove he could. He showed no mercy, he would laugh as he killed men, women, and children without a hint of remorse. They of course didn't know the whole story, and Darren didn't think it would be a good idea to correct them and confirm their suspicions. His old "master" was dead, and when he had tried to leave his old family its new leader took it as an insult and tried to hunt him down.

It was believed that "The Yau Guai" had been killed months ago, Darren's encounter with a similarly built and unfortunate raider had made sure of that. Of course someone in this town would know the story, of course they would recognize his scars. Darren had tried so hard to leave that name behind, and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass. To think there had been a time when the title had made him feel so proud...

The tunnel was getting wider, and the stink in the air was starting to make Darren dizzy. What was left of a man was spread out before him in a gruesome spectacle of gore and violence. His arm had been torn from its socket and his face ripped from his skull, he had been disemboweled and his innards now stained the floor and walls of the cave. It at least looked as if he had put up a fight in his final moments. From his clothing he appeared to be a scavenger or treasure hunter. As he navigated the mess, staining the bottom of his boots red in the process, Darren silently berated the man for being enough of a fool to come here alone, he then tried to ignore the voice in the back of his mind that now laughed at him.

Once clear of the scene Darren thought on why he was here, and why he may share the scavengers fate. Frustrated by the idea of the townsfolk discovering who he was, he had been desperately trying to think of a way to gain their trust when he remembered the caravans. Apparently, a large yau guai had moved into the area and had been preying on the merchants that traveled the wastes. They were considering skipping the town all together for their own safety. The supplies those caravans brought was the life blood of the settlement. Sure they had a few shops of their own, but the salvage, meds, and weapons the caravans brought in provided what they needed to keep going. This was Darren's chance.

Convincing the people that he was nothing like the Darren from the stories was the only way, that he could think of, to kill the rumors. After all, 'The Yau Guai' would never risk his life for them. Actually, 'The Yau Guai' would have murdered them all by now, and fashioned their skin into his wardrobe. Darren hoped that maybe, just maybe, by doing this the name would fade from memory, and that he would finally be able to rest and start over.

After convincing the sheriff that he wasn't joking about hunting the yau guai, he had asked him if they had any weapons or supplies they could spare. Ten minutes later he was given the rusty knife and rickety old sawed-off shotgun he now carried. Darren wasn't stupid, he knew that this was on purpose. The sheriff clearly didn't think he was actually going to do the job, and was simply trying to get some free weapons before leaving town. Darren left early the next day.

So here he was, trying to rid himself of his old name by killing the very thing he was named after. Darren recognized the potential for poetry here, but he had never been very good at that kind of thing.

The tunnel was opening up into a large cavern now, jagged rocks stuck out of the ground and hung from the ceiling like fangs. More bodies lay scattered around the area, some were whole while others were in pieces. He had found the beast's den. The next few minutes of his life would decide whether he would have a chance to start a new one, or die shackled to the old.

_Today it ends, _he thought, carefully moving towards the center.

_Today The Yau Guai dies._


	3. Intro part 3

The floors and walls were smooth and slick, the light emanating from the fungus of the cave reflecting dimly off of the many surfaces. Puddles of water, murky with filth, were scattered around the cavern in a broken pattern. The stench of death was at its strongest here in the deepest reaches of the beast's den. Claw marks scarred many of the stalagmites and boulders. Heavy breathing and the dripping of water was all that could be heard, the former being deep and steady.

Darren silently approached a particularly large and flat rock that formed a rough wall. He leaned against it to take pressure off his leg, the pain was getting worse and his limp had returned. Wincing, he slowly pushed himself toward the edge of the wall and upon reaching it peaked his head out to check the other side. Other rocks similar to the one he was hiding behind were nearby, forming a jagged circle around the heart of the cavern. A few dips and crevices could be seen cutting into the floor, some of which were filled with small pools of water. Darren took note of this, but his eyes were now locked on to what rested in the center of the circle.

The largest yau guai Darren had ever seen rested next to a pile of bones. What little hair it had was matted with dirt and blood, and old bullet and blade wounds crisscrossed on its body. A few looked fresh, most likely gained through its recent raiding of the caravans. The creature lay stretched on the floor, its torso rising and falling silently.

Darren was in luck for once, it was still sleeping. After glancing around the area to make sure he hadn't missed anything, he pulled himself back behind his cover and began to formulate a plan. Given his equipment he didn't have very many options, but he was still able to think of a few strategies.

Plan A: His sawed-off shotgun was the most obvious solution. If he could sneak up on the yau guai while it slept, he could put two shells in its skull and be back in town by noon the next day. He gave his shotgun an uncertain look.

_If you're really up there, I could use some help with plan A,_ he thought as he looked up at the ceiling, he then glanced back at the yau guai to make sure it hadn't moved. It shifted slightly as it slumbered, it wouldn't be long before it awoke.

Plan B: In the "unlikely" event that his shotgun failed him, he knew that his pistol wouldn't. While he hadn't had a chance to properly repair it in over a week, he knew that he could trust it to deliver when he needed it to. The way he saw it, that 10mm pistol was his best friend. He had even carved his initials into it, a few having been scratched out.

Plan C: If he somehow lost his pistol... well.. all he would have left would be his knife and spiked knuckles. The yau guai obviously outclassed him physically, it was easily over four times his size, and while he could think of a few ideas they all ended with him dead. If things got that bad, he figured he'd just have to wing it.

Darren closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his nose, ignoring the smell as best he could, he then slowly exhaled through his mouth.

_Well... here goes._

Opening his eyes and raising his gun, Darren carefully left the safety of his cover and began his approach. Making sure he didn't step on anything that would make noise, his eyes shifted between his feet and the yau guai as he approached. The beast seemed to grow with every step he took, its ears occasionally twitching as it slept.

Darren had spent his entire life surviving in the wastes, his old family had trained and molded him into a deadly weapon capable of holding his own against the roving war bands that stalked up and down The River back in Virginia. He had been taught how to fight through pain, how to manage when outnumbered, and even how to counter superior tech. Now that he was only a few steps away from this sleeping giant all of his training and experience was demanding that he leave. Experience, and common sense, told him that he was in no condition to fight this thing on his own and that he should just head back to town and tell the sheriff what he had found. No matter how reasonable the idea was, he couldn't bring himself to do it. what if in the time it took him to get back to town another caravan was attacked? What if he brought someone here to help him and in his current condition was unable to keep them safe? Darren convinced himself that it was to risky to bring anyone here, and that the time to strike was now. He would be lying however if he said that he didn't stay because the idea of limping back to ask for help had also stung his pride.

He now stood mere feet from the yau guai's massive head. leveling his sawed-off with the creatures wide forehead, he uttered a silent prayer as he executed plan A and pulled the triggers.

*CLICK*

*CLICK*

The impossibly loud clicks reverberated off the cave walls as the shotgun failed. Darren wasn't surprised, but he still gave a quick but harsh glare towards the ceiling, which pierced the rock and shot into the heavens above. The meaning behind it was clear.

_Thanks, asshole._

The yau guai head shot up as it was jolted awake by the sound. As it looked up its eyes met with Darren's. For a few moments they stared at each other, one half asleep the other frozen by its gaze. The yau guai's face curled into a snarl as it began to realize that what stood before it was in fact real.

_Plan B, _Darren thought as he dropped the useless club he had been carrying and reached for his pistol, the yau guai already pushing itself off of the ground. He drew his weapon and was able to get two shots off, one grazing the yau guai's ear and the other digging deep into its muzzle, before it was able to retaliate. Using its huge size and strength, and moving faster than anything that big had any right to, It struck Darren with its forepaws in retaliation. The force of the blow sent Darren flying backwards several feet before slamming onto the hard floor and sliding several more.

Despite his best efforts, Darren's pistol had been torn from his grip, and he was now gasping to catch his breath. The yau guai, proud of its display of raw power, was now roaring and trying its best to look intimidating. Darren's head was spinning from how quickly things had gone wrong, his eyes darted around the cavern as he desperately searched for a way to save himself. They stopped when he noticed a hole cutting into the floor a half dozen feet to his left, it was filled with water and looked just big enough to fit him. A crazy idea sparked in his mind. The yau guai, satisfied with itself, dropped back into its four legged posture and began to approach its new meal.

"Plan C!" Darren said under his breath as he, not having enough time to stand, rolled towards the pool. The yau guai, insulted by its breakfast's defiance, began to sprint to intercept him. Darren splashed into the dark water just as the yau guai reached the edge of the pool. It was surprisingly deep, and as the yau guai attacked the surface he pushed himself to the bottom. Pressing his left hand against the wall of the hole to anchor himself, he reached his right into his pocket and slipped on his spiked knuckles. He watched as the faint murky outline of the creature above ceased its assault on the pool. It was much too large to fit into the hole, and its animal mind was beginning to be confused by how its prey hadn't surfaced. It peered into the dark water searching for any signs of life.

_Just a little closer..._

Darren's grip tightened on his knuckles. The seconds crawled by, his heart was pounding and eating up his oxygen, he hadn't had a chance to take in a good breath before plunging into the pool and his lungs were beginning to cry out for air. The yau guai slowly lowered its head to investigate the water, blood dripping from the bullet wound in its muzzle.

_Perfect._

Kicking off the bottom of the pool, Darren launched himself up. Bursting from the surface, and before the yau guai could react, he delivered a savage blow to the beasts face. The steel spikes of his knuckles crashed into the creatures left eye, shattering bone and blinding it on that side. Darren pushed himself back to the bottom of the pool as the yau guai, in a mixture of surprise, anger, and extreme pain, attacked the water once again.

_Soft spot in the skull now..._

Darren slipped his knuckles back into his pocket and drew his knife, trying his best to hold back an amazed laugh.

_... soft enough for a rusty blade._

The yau guai thrashed the water in its rage, a few of its swipes missing Darren by only a few inches. One of its claws managed to slice through the flesh of his forehead causing him to gasp and lose precious air, blood mixed with the water as his new wound wept. Frustrated, the yau guai paused to roar at the pool as if demanding the man come out. Darren's lungs were burning, he had no choice but to obey.

Breaking the surface with a large splash, he brought his knife in an arc toward the beast's new weak point. The yau guai was expecting another attack like this and, after a brief flinch, swung a giant paw at its foe. Darren was faster, plunging the knife deep into the creatures skull, but before he could finish the job the yau guai's paw pounded into his chest. There was a loud snap as the blade of the knife broke away from the handle, Darren's old leather breastplate was torn from his body as he was forced back into the pool, his head slamming against the wall as the straps and buckles of his armor snapped and loosened leaving only a single shoulder pad secure. The yau guai howled in pain and clawed at the blade that was now stuck in its eye socket, it retreated from the edge of the water as Darren struggled to stay conscious and reach the surface.

Through his willpower alone, Darren managed to stay awake and escape the water. He coughed and choked on the water he had taken in, gulping down air, still foul but no less lifesaving, whenever he could before he remembered where he was. His eyes shot up expecting to see the yau guai's jaws closing in on him. To his surprise, the yau guai was keeping its distance. It paced back and forth as it stared at him from across the cavern with its one eye. Darren was confused for a few moments, wondering what this meant, before he climbed out of the water as the answer came to him.

Darren recognized that this beast was smarter than the average yau guai, it knew that he was dangerous when he had the cover of the pool, but outside the water he was defenseless. He had no way of fighting it in the open and if he tried to run it could easily chase him down, especially with his leg the way it was. The pool was his only advantage, and the yau guai had taken that from him.

"Well," he sighed, glancing at the pool and then back at the yau guai, "at least I didn't make it easy for you."

It was still pacing, not wanting to get too close for fear of him jumping back into the water, its face twitching in pain. Darren's eyes narrowed when he noticed the blade still stuck in the beast's eye, most likely a permanent addition now. His mind raced with ideas before finally settling on one last plan. The yau guai would eventually die of an infection, but that would take much too long. Darren slipped his hand back into his pocket as he thought of a way to speed up the process.

"This is a bad idea," he said as he limped away from the pool, "but, damn it! If it works... it'll make for one hell of a story."

The yau guai stopped pacing and watched as he moved away from the water. After putting a fair amount of distance between himself and the pool, Darren looked behind him to make sure there were no rocks or debris. After making sure it was clear, he turned back to the yau guai and, ignoring the pain in his leg, stood as tall as he was able. Blood from the gash in his forehead ran into his eyes as a smile appeared on his face.

"Come on!" he screamed, beating his chest in a challenging manner. The yau guai snarled, its prey was weak and had been stupid enough to leave the protection of the pool. Charging, it readied itself to leap and pounce on its soon to be feast and seal its victory.

"Yup..." Darren said, his smile widening into a grin as the yau guai sprinted towards him, "...one hell of a story."

Time slowed for Darren as the yau guai leaped at him. His senses dulled as his body seemed to click into auto-pilot, the adrenaline coursing through his body allowing him to move faster than he thought possible. Mere moments before the yau guai was on him, he ducked under its claws and, channeling everything he had left, sent his fist rocketing into the creatures wound.

By some miracle, his steel knuckles made contact with the broken blade of his knife, its spikes locking it into place as it was pushed forward. The momentum of the yau guai's leap and the strength behind Darren's attack forced the blade deeper into the creatures skull, breaking through bone and slicing deep into its brain. The great beast's death rattle echoed through out the cavern, as its now lifeless body collided with Darren. Its claws tore into him and his head slammed onto the cold floor as he and the body tumbled back. He could hear his leg snapping as it bent at unnatural angles, the weight of the yau guai's body crushing him. He struggled to get free of the tangled mass of flesh and claws. Finally managing to break free, he slammed into the ground once more as the yau guai continued on without him.

The pain was indescribable, and Darren's vision dimmed. He laid there on the floor of the cave battered, broken, and helpless as the world went dark.

The sound of dripping water began to pierce Darren's ear as he regained consciousness. He awoke to the stink of the cave and in a shallow pool of his own blood, not entirely sure where he was. He tried to lift his head to check his surroundings but found it difficult. He was groggy, confused, and still trying to piece together where he was when he tried to push himself up.

That's when the pain hit.

Screaming, he fell back to the ground clenching his fists in agony. His head was pounding, his skin on his chest felt like it had been peeled off, and his leg felt like he had stepped on a dozen frag mines. After regaining control of himself he wiped the tears and blood from his eyes then looked to the source of his most intense pain. His leg was twisted and the bone had punched through the skin. Darren let flow a number of profanities as his memory came back to him. He remembered the cave, the yau guai, and his suicidal idea on how to kill it.

Reaching into his pack, he slipped off the knuckles he still wore and pulled out his last stimpack, placing it on the floor next to him. The severity of his leg injury meant that one stimpack wouldn't be enough to fully heal it, but it should be enough to allow him to walk. Before he could use it however, he had to set the bone. Darren pulled off his shoulder pad, it was all that was left of the armor for his torso, and bit down on the leather. Then after a few deep shaky breaths, he placed his hands on his leg and prepared himself for what needed to be done.

The cavern was filled with the sounds of squashing meat, grinding bone, and horrible screaming as he forced his leg back into its proper shape. After a full minute of excruciating pain, Darren spit out the shoulder pad and , trying not to pass out, desperately reached for the stimpack. He started to panic when his hand met the stone floor, for a moment he was worried that he had accidentally knocked the stimpack away while he was setting the bone. After a few seconds of frantic searching his hand fell upon the needle, he wasn't delicate as he wasted no time in stabbing it into his leg. He laid back onto the ground as the medicine did its work, closing the wound and knitting the bone together as best as it could. Stimpacks never did heal bones very well, Darren would need a proper doctor for that, but it should at least be enough for him to walk. If he could get back to town, he could have the doctor at the clinic take a look at it. If he was in a good enough mood at least.

With his leg treated as well as he could manage, Darren checked his body for any other injuries. A few large bumps had formed on the back of his head, the gash on his forehead had stopped bleeding, large claw marks adorned his chest, and his back was heavily bruised. The cuts and gashes stung something fierce but some of the medicine from the stimpack had spread through his body soothing some of the larger ones and healing a few of the smallest. The antibiotics of the stimpack would also prevent infection for a time. Darren felt his bones to check for any more breaks, he winced as he checked his ribs.

"Few fractures." he said as he moved on to the rest of his body.

All that was left were a few minor bruises, most of which he had gained before coming to this cave. Groaning, he lifted himself up and slowly tried to stand, keeping his weight on his good leg. His bad leg was still in intense pain, and he was tempted to use his last dose of med-x, but restrained himself knowing that he would need it for the journey back to town. Even after he had the doctor fix it, Darren was worried that his leg would never be the same. There was a high chance he would have a, hopefully slight, permanent limp. Despite the worry Darren smiled, he may have to limp for the rest of his life, but at least he still had a life to limp through.

Glancing around the cavern, his eyes eventually fell upon the carcass of the yau guai, its limbs bent at awkward angles and its eye was glazed over. Darren watched it for a few moments before approaching. He needed to make sure it was dead. Not even trying to be subtle, he limped up to the body and kicked it as best he could. When it failed to react, he let himself relax. It was done, the yau guai was dead and he had somehow survived. Re-equipping his knuckles, he moved over to the dead beasts jaws. With a few precise strikes, he removed the large fangs from the yau guai's mouth to keep as trophies.

Finished with the dead creature, Darren scanned the area for his pistol. He found it laying next to the useless shotgun he had brought. After retrieving his gun, he checked it for any damage and then glared at the sawed-off.

"Next time," he said as his glare shifted from the shotgun to the ceiling,"just have it explode."

Darren took a moment to think about his now complete job as he readied himself to leave. He had come to this cave with unreliable weapons and several injuries, and yet he had managed to kill the largest yau guai he had ever seen. Darren thought about how this made him feel. He decided that he felt... sore.

Chuckling, he turned to leave.

"Back to town," he said, a proud smile spreading on his face,"back to Megaton."

Lucas Simms adjusted his hat to hide his face from the sun. It had been an especially long and hot day, and he couldn't wait to get back home and relieve Manya of her babysitting duty. His son was going to be having his fifth birthday soon and Manya had wanted to talk to him about a way to celebrate.

Simms was just finishing his rounds of the town when he noticed the commotion by the front gates. A half dozen people stood in a circle around what looked to be an injured man. Simms broke into a jog, and as he neared the small crowd he began to recognize the man as a recent visitor of the town. The stranger had left a few days ago claiming that he was going to hunt the yau guai that had been attacking the caravans, but he hadn't been seen since. Simms figured that he had skipped town after trying to get some free supplies and had almost forgotten about him.

The crowd made way for the sheriff as he approached so he could get a better look. The man, Simms couldn't quite remember his name, was in bad shape. His leg was broken, he had large bruises and cuts on his body, his armor was in pieces, and a somewhat fresh bullet wound decorated his unprotected left shoulder.

"This is the second time you've almost died on our doorstep, boy," he said as he helped the man, Simms finally remembered his name as Darren, back to his feet, "what happened this time?"

Darren gave a weary smile.

"I did it," he said, reaching into his pack he pulled out two large fangs and held them out for Simms to see,"I killed him."

"I'll be damned..." Simms muttered, looking at the fangs. He recognized them as being that of a yau guai, and the size showed they didn't come from just any average one. Simms was impressed at how this stranger had been able to solve this problem that had been troubling him for weeks. Of course he would have to wait for the caravans confirm that the creature was gone before he rewarded the man for his work, but he made a mental note to buy the man a drink as a thank you.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to help me get to the clinic," Darren began, slipping the fangs in his pocket and wincing, "I'd like to talk to you about that shotgun you lent me."

Author note: I was originally going to end the story here, but I have been getting a lot of ideas on how it could continue. It's done for now, but I'll probably continue it soon.


End file.
